


scruffy

by yaboycrankymark



Series: scruffy [1]
Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Crankiplier - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Badass Ethan Nestor, Comfort, CrankGameplays - Freeform, Ethan Nestor - Freeform, Ethan Nestor Needs a Hug, Fluff, Hurt, Hurt Ethan Nestor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mark Fischbach - Freeform, Markiplier - Freeform, Platonic Crankiplier, Platonic Relationships, Protective Mark Fischbach, Sad Ethan Nestor, crankiplier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 14:34:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30056952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaboycrankymark/pseuds/yaboycrankymark
Summary: this is set in the year 2000.in which 15 year old ethan is a poor boy and 17 year old mark is a fortunate jock who loves said poor boy.platonic crankiplier.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach & Ethan Nestor, Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Series: scruffy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211216
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	scruffy

nightly wind brushed over the back of ethan's neck, the crispness of the air felt soothing as it was entering and leaving his body. his eyes scanned over the mountains and city area, even in sickness he admired the view of his hometown in maine.

ethan's elbows bruised at the pressure of the fence as he leaned over it to vomit. given that this was the third time that day, nothing came up but stomach acid and alcohol. he held the malboro red away from him as he dryly heaved against the cold atmosphere. once his body had had enough, he shakily brought the tobacco to his lips and kept it there, waiting momentarily for his head to stop spinning before huffing again.

the loose, denim jeans did no justice to keep ethan warm. the state of his body temperature was the last thing on his mind, though. if he couldn't fix it, there was no point in even trying to display any amount of concern. he learned that years back, he couldn't fix his parent's death.

no point in minding it.

it's not like he didn't care about his parents, that's just the way ethan worked. he loved his mom, his dad a little more, but hey, everyone's time comes eventually. at least, he tried to convince himself. he'd lost so much up to this point that it got less surprising each time. he doesn't think of his parents everyday, though he likes to think that they think of him. somewhere, somehow, the two of them are enjoying the afterlife in recliners, scoffing at ethan's life choices. he lives in a one bed, one bath space on the second floor of an apartment building in a white trash neighborhood that he could barely afford working five hours a day and going to school on top of it all. not to mention, he's enclosed in a sketchy area.

his mom and dad were definitely making fun of him.

ethan smiled at that.

his train of thought was interrupted when he about choked, hearing a front door opened behind him.

"what are you doing on my front porch?"

twas mark.

mark was ethan's favorite person. one and only. although he hated to admit it, he really loved mark. he made life a bit easier for ethan. poor decisions and impulsive thinking flew around the younger one's mind almost constantly, racing like speed cars with no second thoughts added. mark shut it down when he could. he made sure ethan was well fed, and was getting plenty of sleep. however, also gave ethan company. their main pass time was going to arcades. even if mark didn't care for them as much, if it made ethan happy, then it made him happy.

mark's mother, too. sunok had a soft spot in her fragile heart for ethan. when she met him five hears prior to the current time period, she felt the need to take after ethan. it's a funny story, really.

one chilly autumn afternoon in the year 1995, mark was only 12, wondering a public park and screwing around on his bike. he had noticed a boy laying horizontally across the green bench. curiosity overflowing him, he dropped his bike to it's side and trudged through the dead leaves to reach the ominous child, "what's your name?" he questioned, allowing his arms to fall as he looked downwards to the boy, "ethan. yours?" ethan answered without hesitation, sitting upright and squinting up at mark, the dull sun rays beaming into his eyes through the thick cedar and pine trees that layered the forest right behind civilization. "you talk weird. i'm mark. that's my mom. i don't think you'd be able to say hello to her, she doesn't speak english all that much." the weird talking he refered to was ethan's accent. at this time, mark wasn't used to the way things were in maine. he'd just moved here with his mom and dad from hawaii.

from then, mark and ethan met at the park nearly everyday for the next five years. after sunok taught herself some english, she was able to communicate with ethan. a blessing to her, really. especially after ethan's parents passed, she found it lucky that she picked up the second language when she did.

moral of the story, mark and sunok were the only family ethan had, and he was a-ok with that.

ethan stood up straight, feeling a tight pressure in his chest as he did. he refused to turn around though, taking another rip of the half smoked cigarette and blowing the inhaled smoke in direction of the wind, "there was uhm - there were cop cars surrounding my building. didn't feel safe." he lazily explained, hearing mark's hum of understanding. "thought i told you to stop buying those." the 17 year old's voice sounded clear and lively, like he'd been awake for a while. ethan twirled the cig between his middle and index finger, watching as the red - ish ash illuminated his finger nails, "ya' momma awake?" he ignored the question, letting that northern accent take over, too exhausted to notice.

"no, but i can tell you right now that she won't be happy if she comes outside tomorrow morning to find ash and the smell of smoke on her property. especially," mark walked up behind ethan to snatch the cigarette from him, putting it out on the square pole that held the roof to the porch fence and flicking the remains into the front lawn, "if she found out it was you." mark watched as ethan let out a shaky breath and watched the rest of his nicotine die out in the short cut grass. once it was completely faded and dead, the youngest looked up at mark, seeing him clear as the light from inside the log cabin shined onto mark's face. "fuckin' - a, dude. you're so frustrating sometimes." ethan clogged his throat, letting out an agitated laugh. he couldn't find it in him to even act furious towards mark, which actually made him furious.

the boy was beginning to get worked up. nothing was right. he couldn't grasp what it was, but he didn't like this feeling. the feeling of not being in control. mark clicked his tongue, connecting the dots that ethan was about to burst. and, he was right. as soon as he noticed ethan getting riled up, mark saw ethan's fist fly towards that same pole his cigarette had been put out on. the eldest caught the youngest's wrist before it hit the wood. ethan sighed, drooping his arm almost immediately. the impact of mark's strong hold brought his senses back to him. ethan took a deep breath, to which mark responded, "there we go, atta boy."

"you wanna come inside? i doubt you've eaten today. i can whip you up something if you'd like?" mark offered, brushing left over ash off the chest of ethan's thin, black zip up jacket. the wind didn't seem to agree with him. ethan contemplated the offer, rubbing his face in attempt to wear off some of the tiredness. it didn't work. the 15 year old nodded, honestly needing mark at this moment. "alright, bud. just slip your boots off before you come inside. they're muddy."

without a word, ethan obeyed. he pulled his boots off, letting them fall to the left of the front door. he picked up his limp backpack off the wooden platform as well, setting it next to the coat rack. as soon as he followed behind into the house, he felt at home. the smell of oak and cinnamon toast hugged him with a comfortable force. he always admired the way the fischbach residency felt. the leather couch was a nice touch to the rustic themes of furniture. the box TV played late night cartoons with the fireplace burning to the right of it. everything felt so kind. like it was meant to be just the way it was, where it was.

mark slipped past ethan, finally catching a solid whiff of his body odor, he stopped mid - step, trying the best to his ability not to scrunch his nose in disgust, "hey man i can - i can run you a shower? when's the last time you showered?" he watched ethan shut the door behind him, thinking for a quick second, "last time i came over here, why?"

three days ago.

mark flickered his tongue over his lips, "okay, i'm going to go and start the water for you so you can get cleaned up. you can borrow my clothes? unless you have some?" he gestured nonchalantly, waiting for a response. "oh, i uh - i do, but they aren't night clothes." ethan pointed out, walking deeper keeping cautious of his steps, not wanting to track dirt throughout the house. "that's fine, of course. you can come up to my bathroom if you want, i'll grab you some night clothes and run you a warm shower then, yeah?"

ethan nodded, careful not to make too much noise as he walked up the stairs. as he approached the bathroom, mark was already standing beside the tub, adjusting the lever to an acceptable temperature, "stick your hand in here, does this feel alright?" ethan set his bag down, scooting around mark to feel the water, "yeah that's good, thank you." "no problem, man. i'll go make you some food so it'll be hot when you get downstairs." mark wiped his wet hands on the semi - transparent white tank that clasped his torso delicately, clearly defining his back muscles.

ethan gave a thumbs up, to which mark returned before leaving ethan to his privacy and closing the restroom door on his way out.

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts on the concept?


End file.
